


81 - Work

by TerraCorrupt



Series: Shadowruns in the Matrix [3]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraCorrupt/pseuds/TerraCorrupt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(So I’ve got a 100 List I’ve been working on for ten years with only moderate successes as time and inclination allows. This one lead to a sequel that is multi-chapter and goes on 5evers.</p><p>Synopsis: On the job difficulties can prove to be distinctly unpleasant for anyone, but having a synthetic leg that doesn’t want to cooperate can really make for an unpleasant experience.</p><p>Alternatively: John is a grumpy jerk and Dorian tell him to take off his pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	81 - Work

            Sitting in the interrogation room at the precinct with an uncooperative suspect had always rankled deeply in the detective’s mind. He hated when they wouldn’t just answer the questions he or his partner were asking. It’s not like it was going to get them any freer by obfuscating the truth. All it did was serve to piss him off even more than he already was, even on a good day.

             But for now, the detective decided he would let his synthetic partner handle the questioning. He understood now that the DRN units, especially his Dorian, were much better at human interaction than he was. Detective Kennex leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He listened to Dorian drone on, asking questions and getting the same bland answers he himself was getting. It was frustrating, and he was getting bored way too fast.

            “This isn’t going anywhere.” John finally announced interrupting Dorian’s next question. He pressed a hand to his eyes and dragged it down his face while leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. He stared at their suspect with an unblinking gaze, as if sheer intimidation would be what won the day with this turd. “We should throw him in the lock-up and pitch the key into the ocean. He’s just a waste of skin anyway. I’m sure he’ll make the boys down there real happy.” He was implying something nasty and untoward, but it appeared to only spark a little bit of terror in his eyes.

            Dorian looked at his partner when the man started to speak. Internally the algorithms and diagnostics ran themselves automatically to assess the level of irritation John was experiencing and how much longer they could continue before the man turned to violent means and civil rights violations to get what he wanted from the man they were questioning. His robotic eyes darted to certain points on his partner’s face, then down to his heart, hands and finally feet. He added all the data gathered from the unconscious movements John made to the diagnostic. The prognosis indicated that his partner was near the end of his patience.

            The android straightened up from the chair, determining that further questioning would only lead to an unpleasant response, and the balance of probability indicated that such an action would warrant an Internal Affairs investigation that would result in disciplinary action against both of them. “It’s alright, John,” he tried in an appropriately selected amiable voice, with facial expressions to match. “He knows that if he doesn’t answer our questions, the probable almost certain future for him is a long jail term without any of the modern amenities that cooperative inmates have available to them.”

            He spoke to the detective as if their suspect was not even in the room, and it seemed to do the trick. Dorian watched the man’s blood pressure go down considerably as well as his facial expression relaxing from anger into indifference, then finally changing once more into a cruel smile while John shifted his eyes from Dorian’s to their suspect’s. He nodded emphatically, his eyes glinting with imaginings; clearly he enjoyed that outcome for their suspect much better than wanting to beat him to a pulp to get answers. At least for now.

            “Let’s see how fast we can get him to central booking, then, and get the hell out of here.” The detective was quite eager to end his day a bit early, and he could more than do so if he had to go check the prisoner into the jail. That could stretch out until it was time to clock out and he could get back to enjoying his lonely life at home without anyone there to share it. A night alone with a bottle of Jim and whatever he could find on the television. John stood up to let the waiting MX unit outside know that their suspect was ready for transport.

            Before he could get to the door, the man was calling the detective back, wanting to confess to what he knew. He didn’t want to be without his canteen time, or being able to purchase more things from the commissary. John relented and sat back down after a moment’s exasperated sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest once more and stared at the man starting to spill his guts to them without any further frustrating delays while his legs stretched out beneath the table.

            While the man was babbling about the drugs and where they’d come from and who he was supposed to get in contact with when he needed a top off, Dorian switched his recording equipment on. The android straightened up from his bent position and stood in a way to have a proper view of the human that would be jailed when he was finished with his story. When the man stopped speaking, it was Dorian’s job to ask further question to get more information.

            The interrogation dragged on and on and on in John's mind. He did hate these. How often had he said that during this particular one? Too damn often. But the perp was talking, so he would pretend to listen, and stare at his partner. It was something to distract him, and something else to think about during his tedious work day. He wouldn’t always look at a male android's body, but this was his partner. Someone he needed to look at frequently, and to make sure there were no major changes to.

            The first thing he noticed was the synthetic skin covering the DRN unit assigned to him. He had a much lighter complexion than the MX-43 model of the same racial category. Dorian ported the same milk chocolate coloring that he secretly enjoyed in his coffee, and only a shade darker than his ex-girlfriend. That memory stung a bit more than he had expected, prompting John to sigh lightly and shift uncomfortably in his chair, a change that was only noted by Dorian turning his shoulders slightly toward his partner. He extended his long legs under the table and continued to think about his partner. Not only was his skin tone beautiful, it was smooth, and appeared to be soft, unlike his own weather-worn skin. Briefly, the detective wondered what it would be like to caress Dorian’s cheek and forehead.

            The suspect started mentioning what he had seen, which prompted Kennex to shift his attention from the skin to the blue eyes stuck into the android’s head. His creator had chosen blue, instead of the more standard brown. But despite that, they were still soulful, even if that soul was implanted. Dorian was very human, and he found it far more attractive than he would ever admit to anyone who might question it, or wonder why he was alright being paired with an obsolete and inadequate synthetic.

            “John!” A voice was calling in the distance, two pairs of eyes turning on him. Had he fallen asleep? “Detective Kennex. Are you alright?”

            Without realizing it, he’d become so engrossed in his partner’s looks that he didn’t hear the questions that were being asked. He blinked several times and refocused on the room and his partner’s programmed concerned expression. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine. Must have dozed off while Happy here was droning about whatever you were asking him. Are we done here?” The man turned his disproving glare on the suspect, ignoring the sudden realization that they weren’t necessarily done, but had been interrupted by a small mechanical voice at his side declaring a malfunction of his synthetic body part.

            “We… can be done,” Dorian stated carefully, the algorithms processing his partner’s physiological state, as well as the state of the prosthetic. Both concerned him, however he was able to explain away the quickened heartbeat and increased respiration as being side effects of the prosthetic failure. But factoring in that the man had gone unusually silent and still prior to that, and had not even heard the voice start up led Dorian to believe that something else was occupying his thoughts. Something that John wanted to keep to himself. “There is enough information gathered for the initial interrogation. Uploading now.” The android went still, lights playing out across his temples as he accessed the police department’s Vi-Fi network and sent the video to the proper places.

            “Great! I’ll let Stone Face know.” The man reared back to jump to his feet. While it wasn’t immediately a mistake, the detective knew it would quickly become one if he didn’t get himself alone quickly enough. He went to the door of the interrogation room while Dorian finished his creepy robot duty. He pulled it open and waved in a nearby super intimidator. Pointing at the suspect, he ordered the android to escort him downstairs. “Just put him somewhere where he won’t be a danger to himself and others. Room with a view of the toilets should be great.”

            With that taken care of, the detective swaggered toward his desk, feeling particularly accomplished. He wanted to appear as if nothing was wrong, and he was still the best man on the Force. John was only vaguely aware Dorian walking up behind him with information about the video being uploaded. He turned and opened his mouth to respond, though the words died on his lips when he cleared the final wall with a few stairs leading down into the officer’s area, and his synthetic leg finally shut down.

            John felt it give out, the confident expression on his face changing quickly to shock and panic when his brown eyes met Dorian’s confused blue ones. He knew he was going to fall; it was just a matter of getting himself into the right position to cause as little damage to himself, and the traitorous appendage. Rotating back into a front-facing position, he twisted just a bit further to fall on his side with his head tucked down to his chest as if he had been tackled on the football field, except this field had stairs with a head injury at the bottom.

            Dorian watched his partner fall. Reacting with his programmed instincts, he lurched forward to try and catch the man. When he was unable to do so, he then needed to stop himself from pitching forward and landing on John before they could find out what was wrong with his leg. “John!” He called out in surprise, alerting everyone on the floor to the situation happening, as well as the detective landing without as much grace as he probably wanted.

            Everyone saw the resident arrogant detective take his spill to the ground. He had fallen hard, and hit his head on the ground, despite his efforts to protect himself. He laid there on the ground for now, trying to take stock of himself, though his mood grew angrier and angrier in the space of the few seconds no one was there trying to help him. The first one to offer a hand was Dorian, naturally, his partner was always there. But he didn’t need anyone’s help! He could do this on his own!

            Finally, several people had come to try and pull the fallen detective to his feet, including the stoic MX units waiting for their partners to call on them. Everyone wanted to get the man back on his feet, despite him waving them off and insisting he could get up, he just needed a second. They were all talking at once, and more than a few were whispering. They must have been whispering about him, all of it derisive in the detective’s mind. But one voice stood out amongst them all. One man dared voice his opinion without any kind of filtering. “Well, Kennex, face down in the dirt again. Exactly where you were the first time you lost your leg.”

            All sounds in the precinct stopped at the exact moment Richard Paul made his snide comments from his desk. He hadn’t even bothered to get up to try and help John Kennex get back to his feet. Instead he used the opportunity to rub his nose in the fact that the decorated cop was disabled, and occasionally had a few limitations. “Maybe you should just stay there and save the City the trouble of sending you a paycheck every couple of weeks. Your robot boyfriend can go off into space where he belongs, and you can be out on the streets where you belong.”

            John sat bolt upright, no longer trying to fend off the hands of those who didn’t understand that even if he got up, with his synthetic limb on the fritz, he’d fall over again. He ground his teeth and stared once more through the eyes of his robotic partner. There was no mistaking the bio-signs he gave off now. Rage was building within him, regardless of his inability to act on it, the detective wanted to beat the other man to within an inch of his life.

            Dorian rose from his crouched position after assessing that his partner was not in immediate danger, despite the indications that he was in a severe amount of pain. He inferred that his partner would be alright if he remained on the floor where he could not do further injury to himself. The android marched directly to the officer who had hurled such vile insults at his partner and stood in his face with a calculated and menacing expression. He stared for just a moment, with his fists balled up, until Detective Paul started to get up from his chair. Deliberately, Dorian bent down first to whisper in his ear.

            “It's not wise to speak about my partner that way. It makes him angry, but it makes me homicidal. I’ve already punched you hard enough to stagger you once. The next time, you won’t be able to stay on your feet. Do you want to test that theory now?”

            Dorian straightened up and took a step back, while the antagonistic man got to his feet, standing several inches shorter than the android. They squared off for only a few seconds before an unlikely voice of reason called a halt to the hostilities. “Dorian.” John called from his position on the ground. He had been fiddling with the prosthetic’s controls while he was down, but was unable to make it restart. He needed to be picked up, and didn’t trust anyone else to do the job without dropping him. “Come help me up.”

            “Saved by the bell,” Dorian added with a smirk before returning to his partner’s side. He knelt down again; further assessing John and his prosthetic. Determining the leg needed extensive maintenance it was necessary for him to bring the man home, and get that taken care of. Moving behind the man, he hooked his arms around the man’s torso and straightened himself up. He pulled John to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

            “I guess I’m done for the day,” came the snide remark while wrapping his right arm around Dorian’s shoulders so he could hop out of the precinct. He said nothing more to anyone, his pride having taken the biggest hit. He was used to falling in his apartment when the damn leg would fail, but no one was there to witness that humiliation, or see the occasional bruises it left.

            For the first time in a long time, the detective allowed himself to be put into the passenger seat of his car. Behind the tinted windows, he laid his head against the glass and heaved a sigh of relief, appearing to be frail and not nearly as together as he wanted everyone to believe. He didn’t bother switching his ego back on when Dorian entered the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Take me home, Dorian. But stop and get me noodles first.” He sounded tired. He knew he did, and he knew that his every breath and word would be analyzed with more scrutiny now.

            “You need to get that leg off and let me try to fix it.” The android wouldn’t budge. He was worried for his partner while he started the car with the keys he'd removed from John's jacket and drove it quite easily back to the District 7 apartment. “I’ll cook for you when you have been settled in. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be, or I will carry you inside, after ensuring that many of your neighbors are outside to witness the event.”

            The threat was enough to get the detective to draw back and consider his options. Limp in with his partner’s assistance, or be carried like a woman and humiliated in front of everyone. Dorian wouldn’t do that, would he? John didn’t want to take a chance, so instead of protesting anymore, he sat back in the seat and watched the world fly by. The ride was only twebty minutes long anyhow, so he wouldn’t get too much hungrier before their arrival.

            Despite the shortness of it, Dorian was aware when his partner fell asleep. The stress of the limb failing was enough to exhaust the human. So the android drove in silence, certain not to make much noise or any sudden movements of the car while driving. Another ten minutes saw the vehicle safely into a parking place, and Dorian standing outside the passenger door, trying to determine if he should wake John up to bring him inside. Finally, he opened the door and caught the man when he slumped and nearly fell out onto the pavement. He should have buckled in.

            John startled himself awake and took a preemptive strike at Dorian’s face, until he felt himself being lifted from the car and settled on his feet. Dorian was saving his pride; he appreciated his partner more and more today. Maybe he had acted a bit hasty in absolutely refusing to have his partner move in with him. But all that would remain to be seen. He was under too much stress just now. Things would be better in the morning, and he’d be back to wanting to live alone.

            Getting inside the apartment proved to be more of a chore than initially expected. The stairs were the most difficult part with John having to put all of his weight on Dorian’s shoulders so he could jump up and drag the leg. In retrospect, he should have removed the appendage before attempting the move. Despite this, the pair of officers managed to go inside and at the detective’s direction, get him into a comfortable enough chair to rest on that wasn’t on the floor.

            Dorian did a bit of light housekeeping, locking the front door and making his way to John's dresser to retrieve the pair of shorts it was obvious the detective wore around the house. Returning to where he left his companion, he stood patiently with the garment in front of the gimp detective. “Take off your pants, John.”

            The man removing his boots halted in his disrobing and stared up at the android, his cheeks pinking unconsciously. “Take off what?” He was uncomfortable with being seen without his clothes on, even if it was for a visit with his physician. “I don’t think so, Dorian. Thanks for bringing me home, but I think I can handle it from here. You can go back to the station, or call Rudy to come pick you up, but I’m not taking my pants off for you.”

            Dorian had almost infinite patience with the man he was assigned to, but that didn’t mean he always enjoyed his suggestions being brushed aside by him. “John, I know you were staring at me during the interrogation, and it changed your bio-signs dramatically, your heart was beating erratically and your respiration had become much shallower. You were trying to decide if it would be possible for you to be attracted to me. I’m flattered, but we’re not in a position to explore that part of our relationship right now. You’re injured, and I need you to take your pants off so I can take your leg and begin running diagnostics on it. The longer you resist my directions, the longer it takes for you to be walking under your own power. I brought you something to change into, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll turn around so your modesty will be intact.” Dorian spoke calmly, not perturbed at all by his partner’s nervousness about removing articles of clothing. He used the same non-judgmental tone he would with a hysterical victim, because apparently it worked all too well.

            “You self-righteous bastard,” John frowned darkly, his lips pursed together while he did so. Deciding it really wasn’t in his best interests to argue, lest the android call Rudy to come over and they did what they needed to do by force. He bent down to finish removing his boots and waited for Dorian to turn his back, sticking his tongue out at it to make sure he wasn’t equipped with video cameras on the back of his head in the short hair. Setting the boots aside with his white socks laid on top in an orderly fashion, he then laid back enough to undo the catch of his pants. The detective unzipped them and started the slow process of sliding them down over his hips, revealing his simple boxers. Apparently, he wasn’t adventurous with his clothing. With his pants clear of the lounge chair, he pushed them down until they were on the floor and he could lift his legs out of them, and into the shorts Dorian so kindly positioned for his ease of donning when he turned around at John's bidding.

            Neither of them mentioned the wheelchair in the middle of the room that would appear to have been John's best way of getting around the apartment after he had removed his leg, since it would have been easier for him to do things without having to worry about crutches. Something the detective was grateful for. He had trouble getting the shorts up over his hips and once again used his partner for support so he could do it. The man sighed once he was dressed and sat back down, leaning against the back of it. Kicking his real leg up onto the foot rest, he leaned forward to disconnect the synthetic limb from his body. “Now, be careful with this. It might have cost more than you. I don’t want to replace it if I don’t have to.”

            His sense of humor returning was a sign to Dorian that he was no longer under the extreme duress he had been dealing with at the precinct and on the ride back to the apartment. Dorian nodded and hefted the leg up over his shoulder as if it weighed very little. “Right. So I should just drop it over there on the counter before I rip its wires out and try to put them back together.” The android smiled impishly, constantly assessing whether or not he was pushing his luck with the detective. Dorian walked to the counter where the charging station was for the leg.

            With the limb in place, Dorian’s face lit up while he searched for the problems that made the thing malfunction so suddenly. He was able to determine that despite his trauma-onset OCD, John simply refused to care for the prosthetic as if it was something important to him. The knife wound had not been patched up, and in failing to do so, the synthetic nerves that were severed and nicked allowed for energy depletion and incomplete charging. It needed to be fixed by someone with more technical know-how. There was no way to get around that just then.

            “Good news!” He called out, turning to face his partner once more. He saw the man leaning forward with his arm out-stretched for the wheelchair which remained just out of reach. Apparently, the loss of the limb wasn’t enough to truly knock the detective down and out. “And bad news,” Dorian’s voice stopped John from getting the chair; instead he tucked his good leg up under the thigh left behind by the missing leg.

            “Yeah? You got it on the frame, but then you kneecapped it?” The detective was getting to be in a better mood now that he was in his own home, even with his synthetic partner there with him. “That’s unfortunate, because it means I’m going to have to take your leg to replace it.” The detective smirked and grasped at the arms of his chair as if he might push himself up to stand on just the one leg, though he didn’t go any further than that and leaned to the side on the arm of the chair.

            “You’re half right. A common state for you, I know. But you’ll be pleased to know that I got your leg on the frame, and I think it’s fixable.” The android moved boldly to the chair, his eyes scanning it for whether or not it would support the weight of the two of them without buckling and causing damage to either of them. He could sit and corner the man and there would be nothing he could do, short of falling out of the chair over the immovable arms to get away. It was a risk Dorian was willing to take for the moment, and he had a feeling he would not immediately be rebuffed for his advances.

            John stiffened when Dorian sat down, his face becoming drawn and reserved. He hadn’t opened up to anyone about anything in nearly three years, not since he’d felt the ultimate betrayal and nearly died. He clenched his teeth, his eyes darting around for an escape, though in his mind he knew there wasn’t one, unless he ordered Dorian to get away from him. “Then what’s the bad news? Won’t be fixable for a month? I have to get fitted for a new one on my days off?”

            He tried to cover his uncomfortable feelings with bitter humor, though Dorian could tell that he was merely at the mercy of the human fight or flight response based on the facial movements, increased heart rate, and shallow respiration. Dorian determined that he was in no physical danger, but that John was testing himself, so he would remain where he was for the rest of the exchange. He turned on his most conversational voice and tried smiling, as if it would put his partner at ease. “No, John. It is fixable in short order. But the next time you get the bright idea to impress children by stabbing a Gerber 22-47161 serrated knife into your synthetic leg, you should consider the far reaching problems that it will cause, such as severing important nerves and electrical components that It needs to continue functioning as your leg.”

            Dorian frowned when John made an amused noise and looked away, unwilling to be scolded like a child. “Don’t smirk at me, you egotist. You caused this problem. I’ve already called Rudy to come by and try to fix it. He would try to come today, but he couldn’t give me an exact time, so you are free to relax in whatever way makes you happy. When he’s done with your leg, I’ll return with him to his lab and charge. Otherwise, I’ll power down in a corner, and charge later, since neither of us are scheduled to be on duty tomorrow.” He watched John's face carefully while he outlined his plan for the rest of the day. As City property, he always needed to be supervised, and the only place for him to charge was at Rudy’s lab. He did not neglect the idea that this would not be acceptable, but he mentioned the most likely scenario.

            “Stay here, Dorian.”

            “Hmm? I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you, John.”

            “You heard me just fine. Don’t get smart with me.” The Detective had been relaxing, but his sincere request seemed to embarrass him. He felt helpless, and was unable to really admit it. He turned his head away, looking over at his collection of guitars and various other pieces of musical equipment. Staring at those things helped him feel not quite as self-conscious about asking an android to spend the night in his apartment. His vanity and ego needed to remain intact.

            “If you are alright with that, I will ask Rudy to bring my charging station with him…” Dorian started, glad his partner finally felt comfortable enough to open up to him about certain things. It was at least a step in the right direction.

            “Woah, woah, don’t get ahead of yourself, Dorian. I just need you to stay with me until I get my leg back. This isn’t going to be a permanent arrangement or anything.” John returned his eyes to Dorian’s, his face relaxing. Once again he was drawn into the blue irises. He sighed lightly and without thinking lifted a hand to touch the android’s cheek, caressing it. It was as soft as he’d imagined it, soft without needing to shave, or use lotions.

            “John?”

            “Sssh. Don’t talk, Dorian. Just let me do this.”

            Dorian fell silent, watching his partner for cues about what he should be doing aside from sitting there on hump of the lounge chair. He figured out that his partner had truly been feeling lonely, and was now in a position to do something about it, even if that something was quite unorthodox for himself. While the man ran his thumb over the android’s cheekbone, Dorian slowly leaned his head into the hand. He blinked slowly and tilted his head up to look into John's eyes again, the expression much softer now.

            The detective sighed, part of him wanting to pull away and retreat back into something he knew, but now that he was actually feeling the skin he considered wanting to get closer to the android. “Why did your creator give you blue eyes?” He asked with his entire demeanor quite different from the hard-nosed detective he was outside of the apartment. Within the walls, he was able to let down his guard with the one thing that did not show any desire to inform on him about what he did.

            “I can’t answer that with any certainty, but I think it’s because of the way people respond to them. While darker eyes like yours are often perceived to be more trustworthy, and an indication of dominance, studies indicate that people with blue eyes are thought to be kinder and sweeter.” The android rattled off facts about eyes, despite the light sigh that escaped his partner’s nose, though it was evident that he was not looking into Dorian’s eyes, but rather at his lips moving and forming the words. “And there is also a response that indicated people found blue eyes to be sexier than hazel or brown.”

            The man hadn’t really been paying attention to the response. It had been a rhetorical question after all. He really was watching how his lips moved and formed letters. Slowly, John leaned forward but ultimately sat back, not quite able to push himself over the edge of kissing his partner. _Maybe I need to be wined and dined… Stop being a virgin girl, and just do it._ With his free hand, he grasped at Dorian’s arm to pull himself closer, nervously pressing their lips together.

            The action was almost mechanical on John's part. He hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, he’d almost forgotten how to do it properly. He pulled back, without sitting back and stared at Dorian, his cheeks quite flushed under the tanned skin. He breathed shallowly, though his heart rate was erratic, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had enjoyed the action, and wanted to do it again, not that he would ever admit it, or get caught by someone wandering over to check on him.

            Reacting to his perception of the detective’s desires, Dorian leaned forward to meet John with a second kiss. He put his hands on the arms of the chair and pressed forward further so his partner would lie back and allow him to be the aggressor, if only because he was a bit more physically fit and could hold himself in an uncomfortable position for a longer period of time.

            John responded ardently, his hands coming up to wrap around Dorian’ torso, as he would with a woman, holding him close. He wouldn’t admit to himself that he was suddenly so desperate for this sort of affection that he turned to the most logical person that wouldn’t judge and whose services he didn’t have to pay for. Besides that, he was enjoying the kiss. He enjoyed the feeling of Dorian’s synthetic lips against his. They felt real (even without the pheromones), and his partner seemed to know what he was doing.

            Just a moment later, Dorian pulled away from the kiss with a perplexed grunt, his face lighting up. “Rudy’s calling,” He said as an excuse as he stood up from the chair to take the call without the chance of him hearing John breathing over the line. He stepped into the middle of the room, informing the technician that the detective was not injured, and was resting now that he didn’t have to worry about walking and collapsing.

            They conversed about Rudy coming over to the apartment in a couple of hours with all of his equipment needed to care for the prosthetic, and in the meantime, John was to attempt to walk with the crutches that didn’t exist in his apartment. “He’s coming over now, but with traffic, I estimate it will take him two hours to arrive.” The call ended finally, and Dorian returned to settle over his partner again as he had been before, though he knew it was likely the man would want to take a dominant role if there was to be a relationship, or anything further than what was happening right then. He pressed forward farther, thinking the detective wanted to kiss again. “Now where were we?”

            Before their lips could connect again, John lifted a hand to block their mouths from touching so he could pass along a message that he wanted to say while the android had been on the call. “Easy there, tiger. Words first, then fun things.” He smiled warmly, lowering his hands back to the arms of his lounge chair. “Call Rudy back… Tell him I want him to bring your charging station with him if he can get it in his van.”


End file.
